


Gotham Knights

by what-is-a-fanfic-author (naxxerie)



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Batfamily (DCU), Batfamily (DCU) Feels, Batfamily Dynamics (DCU), Bruce Wayne Whump, Bruce Wayne is Not Batman, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Cute Damian Wayne, Family Feels, Fluff, Gen, Hurt Bruce Wayne, Protective Batfamily (DCU), Protective Bruce Wayne, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:27:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 17,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29159619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naxxerie/pseuds/what-is-a-fanfic-author
Summary: Whereas instead of becoming a vigilante and dressing up as a giant bat to fight crime, Bruce chose a civilian life and becomes... A philanthropist.A universe where Batman doesn't exist. But Bruce still managed to father four boys. And Nightwing still exists. As well as Red Hood. And Red Robin. And Robin.Bruce Wayne is a clueless dad who fathers four Gotham Knights.A/N: I just want to make Bruce vulnerable and hurt, and write some overprotective Batboys/Batfam uwuFeaturing: Gotham Villains and Bruce being their victim ^_^ yay
Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Bruce Wayne, Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne
Comments: 197
Kudos: 405





	1. Introducing the Gotham Knights

**Author's Note:**

> I've thought of this AU ever since I stumbled upon that comic issue (after the Court of Owls? seriously, the comic line is so confusing) where Bruce is suffering from an amnesia and doesn't remember he's Batman and his little robins scrambles to protect him from their nemesis. And so I thought, WHAT IF there's a story like that? What if Bruce isn't Batman but he still has to deal with the Gotham Villains. 
> 
> Seriously, I just want to read more Hurt!Bruce stories T_T There is a disturbingly LACK of Hurt!Bruce fics that centered around the batkids and their father. So to satisfy my hunger, I wrote two. lol
> 
> For everyone who was got too hurt by my other batman fic, come and read this fluff <3

It was a typical night in Gotham.

Richard Grayson, otherwise known as Dick, also _not_ known as Nightwing, was standing atop one of the buildings in the center city. The blue winged bat symbol in his suit blends well in the shadows despite having color. Dick stared down at the city, his left ear listening to the earpiece that each of them have.

"Nightwing reporting," he told over the communication, "what's the status?"

"Quiet boring in my lot," another voice answered. Dick snickered over the familiar tone of his brother.

"That's actually good, you know," Dick replied.

"Not for me," Damian Wayne, infamously known as Robin, Dick's youngest brother spoke over.

"Agreed. It took me a while to get dressed up," Tim Drake, the Red Robin, Dick's other younger brother said on the other line.

"Honestly, who takes _that_ long to get changed?" Jason Todd, the Red Hood, Dick's another younger brother replied.

They were the infamous defender of Gotham's justice in the streets—the night vigilantes. They had divided the city in four, each taking a specific 'spot' to watch over. They weren't lone wolf though, even if there is the natural brotherly animosity between them, they still work well as a group (even preferred so).

"Guys, please don't fight over the coms," it's not like they're going to stop, Dick knew that his brothers just _love_ to quarrel and bicker among themselves (it's how they show love).

"Well it's because I—" whatever Tim has to answer back was cut off by a static, then a report from the Bat Cave (their main headquarters, as they liked to report it).

Just as any vigilante, the four of them also have their civilian lives. And that is being the sons of the famous billionaire and philanthropist's Bruce Wayne. Not wanting to endanger their father, the four of them chose to hide their secret activities to their father.

However, it seems like even with that, they couldn't prevent their father from getting into trouble.

"It's Master Bruce," the voice of the Manor's caretaker-slash-butler said over the coms. Alfred knew of what the boys were doing (because what is expected of the man?), he had disapproved at first, but the four boys managed to convince him of their resolve. "It appears that Bane has him kidnapped sirs."

"How much?" Dick asked, of course they aren't going to pay them, not truthfully.

"Three hundred million, sir," Alfred said. "Commissioner has already contacted me about it."

Jason groaned over to where he was sitting at the edge of the building. What is with criminals and their obsession with rich schemes? They are _other_ billionaires in the city yet they focus so much on his father. And three hundred million? That's a hundred more than what the last criminal wanna be asked last time.

"Okay, have the money ready," Dick said.

"Are we—" Tim asked over the comms, are they really going to just idle pay the criminals?

"Of course not," Dick said, even though he was certain that they could take care of Bane, they was still a part of him that worry. So he was just trying (though failing) to lighten up the mood. "Come on, let's go!"

The other three nodded. And they raced to where Bane had captured their father.

Bane is going to take a beating from four overprotective kids.

* * *

Bruce Wayne didn't know what is what with him and his apparent fate of just getting kidnapped. He had increased security since last time someone tried to kidnap him for another ransom but it seems like the criminals had also increased their numbers.

He was really tempted to just open up a bank loan or something—just so he wouldn't be inconvenient like this. The rope that tied his hands behind the chair was hurting his wrists. And the smell—gods—the smell of that worn cloth over his mouth was hurting his nose. Couldn't they at least attempt to invest in better kidnapping equipment?

And it's not like Bruce could fight back against these people. He focus his learnings on how to properly manage his family's business empire not how to fight. Although, his eldest son had tried to instill some self defense techniques to him.

Bruce is so regretting brushing it off. He had an accidental board meeting scheduled that day so he had asked to reschedule the lessons.

He should've just rescheduled the meeting. And now he's suffering.

Bane was still talking over the phone, rattling off some price to (what Bruce thought) was the Commissioner.

Bruce wished that this moron wouldn't try to contact Alfred, or his kids—oh my, Alfred is too old now, he'll surely worry over him (Alfred is a worrying). And his poor sons would surely panic over their father getting kidnapped (again) by some Gotham villain. His eldest, Dick, will surely take care of his brothers. He and Jason could calm down their younger brothers. Bruce really doesn't want to worry his sons. He should've been more careful!

"My, my, you shouldn't have kept all those cash, Mr. Wayne," Bane said after finishing his phone call. "How about sharing it to us?"

Bruce glared. He wanted to curse the moron but couldn't over the cloth in his mouth.

Bane laughed. "No use in fighting, your family has already agreed to pay. Maybe I'll ask for more," he pinched Bruce's cheeks. "I'll milk them dry."

Bruce tried to bite the hands off despite knowing that he couldn't. He couldn't forgive this moron! How dare he worry his family!

Suddenly, a bang gone off somewhere on the abandoned warehouse.

Bane looked troubled, but determined. He motioned for the nearest goon to go look what the commotion was. "Stay here." he told at Bruce.

Bruce rolled his eyes. As if he could get anywhere when he's bound in this chair.

There was another commotion, this time on the other exit of the building. Bane grunted and walked towards the other end. He disappeared over the huge containers.

A minute passed before a shadow dropped in front of Bruce.

His eyes widened when he saw what probably is a young kid wearing green vest, black pants, yellow cape and a black mask over his face. He had a cruel smirk on his face, dangerously proud. He unsheathed his katana trapped behind his back and aimed it at Bruce.

"Don't move," he said—and ran towards Bruce.

Bruce instinctively closed his eyes. Then, he heard the rope snapped, and felt his wrist freed from it. He immediately removed the cloth over his mouth and stood up. "Uhm—thank you," he smiled.

Maybe it was the poor lighting in the building, but Bruce could swore the kid actually _blushed._

"Don't—don't worry about it," the kid said, voice different from what a kid should sound like.

Bruce surmised that the kid is using some kind of technology to muffle or hide his true voice. Well, that's to be expected if one wanted to hide his real identity.

The kid motioned for him to follow him and so Bruce did.

The were still commotion outside, from both ends of the building. He shivered, fearing the huge villain in coming back. Even though he doesn't know how to properly fight, the father in him was screaming to protect the kid in front of him.

"AH! MY MONEY!" a loud shout was heard.

Bruce and the mysterious kid looked behind and saw Bane racing towards them. The kid immediately stood in front of Bruce and put him behind him.

"No—I—" Bruce wanted to protect the kid but his feet were slightly shaking because of fear.

Bane continued to ran towards them.

The kid readied his katana and gritted his teeth. "Those idiots better not—"

With one final roar, Bane launched himself towards the two—but was kicked out of the way by two persons.

Bruce eyes widened when he saw two men—one wearing a black suit with blue bat symbol and the other wearing a slightly similar attire with the kid, but has a red cape. Just as the kid, they were wearing black masks.

"He almost got us you shit heads!" the kid yelled.

Upon instinct, Bruce gave a disapproved frown, "Language."

Vigilante or not, he was _too young_ to know that kind of language.

The kid immediately bowed his head. And blushed.

The man with a black with blue symbol laughed as he landed gracefully on his feet. No doubt having heard the billionaire reprimanding the kid vigilante. "You tell him, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looked over beside the man and saw that the 'man' he thought of before was actually just a teenager, no doubt a year or three older than the kid in front of him.

Meanwhile, Bane groaned from where he landed, just a few steps away from them. He grudgingly stood up, clearing his aching head from the impact. He groaned and glared over at the three in front of him. "Lucky me, eh? Fighting the Gotham Knights," he glared.

Wait—isn't there supposed to be _four?_

The answer came from a shout behind him. Before he could turn around—he heard a whip of a weapon—and his green toxic container was slashed open. "NO!" he screamed—and then he looked back.

And saw the fourth one aiming a bazooka at him.

"Oi that's—" Damian tried to warn his stupid brother but it felt on deaf ears.

Bruce gasped when he saw another one wearing a red mask and black suit fired off his bazooka to the huge villain.

Before he could move, the kid in front of him pushed him towards the ground—and then a huge explosion happened. Bane was thrown by the force of the bazooka at the building wall and exploded on that side. He collapsed after the explosion and no longer get up.

"Oh yeah!" the man with the red mask said, whipping his fist in the air, celebrating for the commotion he had caused.

The man with the blue symbol was over him in an instant, hitting his head. "That's a bit excessive you know!"

The man merely shrugged. "It gets the job done."

Bruce couldn't help but to agree, though. Silently he commended them for it. He stood up on a shaky legs, still rattled by the turn of events.

His four rescuers were upon him on an instant. "Ah—thank you for saving me." He gave a short bow.

The four gave an awkward laugh. "It's uhm—it's fine. It's what we do," the eldest one said.

"Oh. May I ask who you are?" he had heard some news about vigilantes but didn't pay too much attention. Living as a father of four young boys is a tiring job. Even with the help of Alfred, his butler.

"I'm Robin!" the kid said, pushing a bit of his chest forward, he flashed the R on his chest rather proudly.

Bruce gave a short laugh, the kid looked adorable. He couldn't help it though, his hand moving on its own—he gave the Robin a short pat on the head.

The one with the similar attire but a red and black cape took a tentative step forward, "And I'm Red Robin." His eyes immediately down casted.

Bruce noticed the action and gave the other one a pat to the head to. Having raised four adorable emotionally constipated kids (aside from the eldest) he kind of recognizes when one of them asks for a pat on the head.

"I'm Red Hood," the one who launched the bazooka said. He pointed at his helmet, "See? Red Hood."

Bruce gave another humored laugh, "Oh I see." Upon instinct, he took a step forward too and patted the young man over his helmet.

"Tt," Robin crossed his arms but gave a teasing smile.

The eldest with the blue symbol took Bruce's hand and laid it on his head. "And I'm Nightwing!" He gave a huge smile.

Bruce nodded and gave him another pat too.

"Uhm—thank you. For saving me," Bruce said, "I don't know how much it'll cost, but I will pay you. It's the least I could do."

Nightwing immediately shook his head. "Ah, you don't need to. We did what we had to do."

"Are you sure?" After all, vigilante or not, people still need to eat right?

Nightwing nodded. The others did too.

The sounds of siren was heard. The police are getting close now.

"Oops! GCPD is here, that's our cue to leave," Red Robin said, pointing at the blue and red lights fast approaching their location.

Red Hood gave Bruce a final nod before disappearing into the shadows. Red Robin and Robin soon followed.

"Take care!" Nightwing said before jumping back too.

Bruce gave a farewell wave. "You too." He stared a while to where the four disappeared too, wondering were they might be living in. Surely, it must be hard for them—especially the two youngest. He wondered if those two were still in school, or for some reasons a schoolmate of his sons. They seemed to be around the same age.

"Mr. Wayne!" He heard Commissioner Gordon called. "Are you alright, Mr. Wayne?"

"Commissioner!" Bruce smiled. "Yeah, thanks to those four."

Gordon stiffened. "Ah, the Gotham Knights?"

Bruce head tilted in question, ah...he did heard Bane regard them as such. "They seemed to be good, well, they saved me," he gave an embarrassing laugh. What a tale he'll tell his kids back home.

Gordon nodded. "They always do us huge favor," he said, voice sounding proud. "They're off the reasons that Gotham is safe."

Bruce nodded. He walked towards the waiting car, eager to get back home to his family.

* * *

Alfred was the first to greet him when Bruce got back to the Manor. 

"Master Bruce! I'm glad you're safe," he said, giving Bruce a hug. 

Bruce hid his flushed face in his (almost) father's shoulder. 

"Father!" Damian ran from the hall and tackled his father in a hug. "I'm glad you're okay!" there was a small smile on his lips, Bruce attributed that to his son being thankful that he's back. 

"You got us worried there, old man," Jason said. 

"Yeah, we—uhm, watched the news and see that," Tim said, he gave a nervous laugh. 

Damian glared at him over to where he was wrapped around Bruce's waist. 

"I'm glad you're safe, Bruce," Dick said, walking over and giving his father a side hug. 

"Yeah, well, it's actually a rather cool story," Bruce said, thinking over to the events earlier. 

Jason and Tim shared a look.

"Oh? Do tell us!" Tim gave a huge smile. 

"I was actually save by the Gotham Knights. They're quiet strong and heroic," Bruce said. 

Jason looked to his right to hide a flush. He coughed to hide his flushed face. 

Dick also gave a nervous laugh, his face also reddening for a bit. 

Tim was also blushing, his head bowed in an attempt to hide it. 

Damian was also sporting a flushed face, he had a pout on his lips. 

Aw, Bruce's heart fluttered. He didn't know that his sons were a fan of the vigilantes. He couldn't wait to tell them what happened earlier! 

"How about we all take a seat, Master Bruce? Surely you've had enough for the night," Alfred said, a conspiring smile on his lips. Oh, it'll surely be entertaining to see Bruce gush over those Gotham Knights not knowing that his sons were the heroes who saved him.


	2. What Makes the Red Man Tick (Part I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another typical night in Gotham. An unfortunate mugger tried to rob the billionaire philanthropist Bruce Wayne and almost got a bullet in his head. 
> 
> Part I.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like my work, kindly consider buying me a coffee! <3
> 
> https://ko-fi.com/naxxerie

The Unfortunate Man is having a hard time paying his bills. Atop of that, he's also has an unfortunate addiction to illegal drugs—and those costs a lot more money than all his bills combined. 

Now, a typical man would've merely find a better paying job, or maybe loan money in the bank.

But the Unfortunate Man has lived too much off the terrible streets of the City, been influenced too much by the illegal drugs that had flown in his veins. The Unfortunate Man is no longer in a rational mind. 

He needs the drugs. He needs the money. And he's willing to dirty his hands to have it.

* * *

It seems luck again has invaded the billionaire philanthropist Bruce Wayne. He wanted to have a warm cup of coffee from his favorite store across the town. Now, a typical billionaire might have just ordered his personal secretary to buy the coffee (which the secretary will order from an interns in the company), but contrary to how he was portrayed in the Gotham Weekly Magazine, he's actually not that much of an ass (fatherhood really does bring out the best in men).

So, he thought maybe he could have a short walk outside. The sun was already bidding its last farewell in the sky, and the streetlights are already on to provide some light on the dimming streets.

Bruce Wayne had just stepped out from the café after ordering his usual when he had to cross the alley beside the company building. There were lots of mingling people in front of the popular café, and Bruce being a natural asocial person (who has an ingrained aversion to crowds) decided to took a shortcut and walked through the short but dark alleyway.

There was a man standing on the side of the alley, smoking silently in the shadows. Bruce, not wanting to cause a commotion, walked at the farthest side of the alley possible, his shoulder almost touching the other side.

He thought that it'll be the end of it, a quick walk in the alley—but it seems like fate has different plans that night.

"Good evening, Mr. Wayne," the man said, standing straight and walking directly in front of Bruce, blocking his path.

Bruce swallowed down his sarcastic reply, _Evening? You're thirty minutes early for that greeting pal._

It was also this moment that he hated being the face of the company. He should've just followed Alfred's advice and controlled the board without ever showing his face in the magazines. However, the arrogant, single, teenage Bruce had a self-esteem issues at that time, and chose to drown himself in fame, flaunting his wealth carelessly.

Well, that ass-move haunts him now.

"I'm sorry, but I have none in me," Bruce replied, already predicting that this is a mugging situation. Seriously, he really ought to open that loan bank for criminals, far from being ethical, but highly convenient.

He tried to move pass the criminal but got a punch on his stomach.

Bruce dropped the takeout cup of coffee in his hands, its remains decorating the dirty ground with its cinnamon and caramel aroma. "Shit," he could taste blood on his lips.

He straightened his body and rubbed the bruising part of his stomach. "Fine," he took out his wallet and pulled out the last change in his pocket. "Here—have them."

The mugger smirked before taking the cash, "I knew you're loaded," he spoke, he looked over at the money in his hands, "Though this is quiet small for your stature."

Suddenly, he pulled out a gun hidden from his waist.

Bruce was rattled by the memory of that night—all of a sudden, he was transported back to his eight year old self, the echoes of his father's laughter ringing in his ears, the warmth of his mother's hands gracing his cold shoulders.

"I—" he couldn't even comprehend what it is he was about to say, his mouth was suddenly dried and his legs were shaking with fear.

He couldn't—He couldn't die right now, not now when he had four kids waiting for him back home. Dick and Jason may be of legal age, but his two younger boys are not. Damian— _gods_ , he can't let his little son lose his parent the same way Bruce had lost his.

"I'm sorry—please," he pulled out his wallet and threw it at the criminal, who caught it with a cruel smirk and a greedy palm, "take it—take it all!" He pulled out his golden watch, a precious gift from Alfred and the silver pin on his necktie, another gift from Jason.

He doesn't want to make the same mistake as his father and mother had did—his father being too prideful to swallow back his resolve against fighting crime and his mother's affection over the pearls that were gifted to her by Bruce's father.

Everything became superficial in the prospect of not seeing his sons again.

The cruel smile of the criminal almost made him fall on his knees. Bruce isn't even adverse to the idea of literally begging for his life.

Damian's soft smile flashed in his head. He was _too young_ to lose a father.

The criminal bowed down to pick up Bruce's valuables littered on the ground, the gun still pointing straight ahead. "Now, that's more—"

His words were cut off by a bullet on his hand, the one holding the gun. Unable to swallow the pain of having a hole in his bleeding hand, he threw the gun on the ground and clutched his injured hand on his chest. "Who the f—"

Suddenly there's a young man standing between Bruce and the criminal. He gave a kick and the criminal was thrown on the ground. The criminal tried to stand but the man merely punched him in the face until he almost lose consciousness.

The man—the vigilante Red Hood, growled as he pounded on the man laid before him. He didn't let the man speak, instead choosing to plaster his face with bruises, until he cried blood.

The criminal lost consciousness, he was almost dead and his body struggled to gain oxygen from his broken nose and bleeding lips.

Red Hood stood up and unclipped the gun from his waist holster. The absolute _audacity_ of this nameless criminal to fucking hold his father at gunpoint! In an alleyway no less! He could barely imagine the horror that Bruce was facing now, having to relive his worse nightmare. He stood up and loaded his gun.

Driven by anger and worry, he trailed it towards the criminal, fully intending to empty its contents to the bastard's broken face. He'll make sure that this criminal won't even see tomorrow's newspaper. He'll even burn the body afterwards.

With a final feral growl, he clicked the trigger—

A hand pushed his and the bullet merely grazed the criminal's right ear, embedding itself on the alleyway ground.

Red Hood's anger turned towards the bastard who preventing him from ending this dirt's life—when he was faced with the widened eyes of his father.

Bruce's eyes were wide with fear, his mouth hanging open. It looks like he didn't even realize what he had done. "Don't—" his eyes fell on Red Hood's gun and his body shivered at the sight of it.

Bruce saw how Red Hood's shoulder slumped, as if he had been hurt by Bruce's action. How rude of him, to insult the man who had saved him. He swallowed down the fear in his throat and tried to level his voice, he opened his mouth to apologize, but was cut off when Red Hood shook his head.

The man picked up the silver pin on the floor and handed it to Bruce.

Bruce took it in his hands, a frown marring his face. "I'm—"

But when he looked up, the Red Hood was already gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I promised only fluff but--*dodges tomatoes*--I can't help it! This AU just calls for this kind of angst!
> 
> Part II will make you blush, I promise. ^^


	3. What Makes the Red Man Tick (Part II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another typical night in Gotham. An unfortunate mugger tried to rob the billionaire philanthropist Bruce Wayne and almost got a bullet in his head. 
> 
> Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like my work, kindly consider buying me a coffee! <3
> 
> https://ko-fi.com/naxxerie

Bruce was being silly, he knows. He couldn't forget the seemingly upset state of the Red Hood when he left him in that alley. He didn't mean to upset the hero. It was just—the sight of the gun brought painful memories in his head, and try as he might, he couldn't regain control of his body fast enough.

It was late, almost past midnight. He had gone home that night and because he didn't want to upset his sons, he didn't bother telling him of his encounter with the Red Hood, no matter how much his sons seemed to be fanboys of the Gotham Knights.

He had a cup of black coffee on his side, some left over from the night's dinner, and his laptop. He had stayed late in the dining table, past after he had bid good night to his boys.

"Dad?" Bruce flinched upon hearing the voice in the dead silence of the night. He looked up and saw his second eldest, Jason, pouring himself a glass of milk from the refrigerator. "Was that work?"

Bruce's face flushed. "Uh—"

Jason, curious of his father's embarrassment, sneaked quickly beside his father. Bruce was too slow to close the application window in his laptop and Jason was able to take a peak.

Jason tried to hide his blush when he saw that his father was looking at information about his other persona. "Why—are you googling Red Hood?" he hoped that his voice didn't gave too much of his embarrassment.

Bruce seemed to be too caught up on his own to notice Jason's discomfort. "Uhm—it's silly really."

Jason shrugged and took a seat in front of his father. He kind of had a idea that perhaps its related to what happened that afternoon. He had taken out his frustration on the other Gotham criminals that night that even Damian, who was also a fanatic of excessive violence, got worried with how he was acting.

He couldn't tell them however, he was still too much overwhelmed with emotions to recount what happened.

He thought that maybe Bruce would say some mean things about the Red Hood, perhaps tell him of his disapproval and angry words against the Hood's choice of weapon. After all, it was a bullet that took his father's innocence away from him. To actually see his son use that (though, of course Bruce didn't know that it was Jason) was probably troubling and Jason doesn't doubt that his father will say some hurtful words towards the man.

He would swallow down the pain of hearing his father's disapproval, though. He knew how much he had fucked up, attempting to murder a man (despite it being a criminal) right in front of his father's eyes.

However, he was quiet surprised when instead Bruce said, "I was actually—I want to apologize."

Jason almost broke the glass he was holding. "What?"

Bruce gave an embarrassed laugh, "Well, I know you're a big fan of the Red Hood—"

Jason swallowed back the groan. Him? A big fan of himself? It sounded so narcissistic.

"I actually met him earlier—back at the alleyway. He saved me, from a mugger. I supposed, I ought to have thank him, but instead I made him—I don't know, upset?" Bruce eyes were strained towards his cup of coffee.

It was so embarrassing. "I mean, how can I know, right? The guy's wearing a red helmet for hell's sake. But I don't know—he looked, somehow dejected? A bit sad. After what I did."

Jason wanted to bury his head in the sand and suffocate. This is so _awkward!_

But Bruce had continued, too absorbed in recounting the afternoon drama to see the utter discomfort of Jason hearing something about himself, "I have no right to control his decisions, but I just couldn't see another death—not in _that_ way." He swallowed down the coffee, suddenly finding his throat dry.

Jason nodded. Understanding what his father was going through. He gazed down at his half empty glass of milk and, perhaps influenced by his father's courage for confrontation, asked the question that has been bugging him. "Do you—Do you hate the Red Hood?"

Bruce blinked in confusion. "Hate him?"

Jason answered, "I mean, he did try to kill, right? In front of you—" and as an afterthought in preserving his identity, "that's what I got from what you told me."

Bruce coughed, "I don't hate him," he defended.

Jason's eyes were glistened with unshed tears. His voice cracked when he asked, "you don't?"

Bruce shook his head. "Quiet the contrary. I admire him."

Jason could literally feel his tear forming at the corner of his eyes. But he refused to cry in front of his father. Goddamnit he faced the most fearsome criminal in the Gotham city, he won't cry just because of _some_ words!

Bruce gave a soft smile, "It's admirable that he chose what is considered as a murderer's weapon and use it for good. A gun could easily be used to kill. But it was harder to be used to protect." He doesn't even know if he's making any sense at the moment, but he wanted to assure his son that what he felt was far beyond hatred for the hero.

Jason remained speechless. His eyes gazing at his father, trying to decipher if he was lying.

But Bruce wasn't.

"That's actually why I was—uhm, googling him. I wanted to apologize. If I managed to upset him, or something. But I don't know how, so I'm kinda looking if he has a post address or—I don't know," he gave an embarrassed laugh. "Maybe I could send him a letter? Or money?"

Typical of a billionaire, Jason thought. He gave a short laugh, "Why money though?"

Bruce's face flushed again, "I don't know! Maybe he needs to buy food? I just worry if he's eating well."

Jason laughed at that. He looked down at his nutritious milk and gulped it down. "Does he look malnourish?"

"Quiet the opposite really, he looked fit for his age. Admirable body structure." Bruce replied, as if he's stating some facts.

Jason almost chocked in his milk. He coughed it out to strengthen himself.

Bruce looked at him worried. "Are you okay?"

Jason nodded, and hid his flushed face pretending to wipe away some milk stains. "Yeah, I'm good—so, I think _I_ —I mean, _Red Hood_ , won't think too much of the incident."

Bruce still looked troubled, "You think so?"

Jason gave an embarrassed laugh, "Yeah, I mean—he has a lot of worries, too you know. Like keeping Gotham safe, so I think the incident is far— _far_ behind him now."

Bruce gave a smile. "I'm glad. I don't want him to change for something silly. He has done good for the city. All Gotham Knights do."

Jason smiled.

Then because he's still a son who competes with three other brothers for their father's affection (not that there's a competition because Bruce loves them equally), "So—that does mean Red Hood is your favorite Gotham Knight?"

Bruce gave a soft smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, I have a confession to make. 
> 
> When I first thought of this AU, I haven't really consider the implication of removing Batman in the Gotham equation lol.  
> I just thought--hey, what if Bruce is a civilian but the batboys are not. And Bruce gets a lot of whump and the batfam takes care of him. (because seriously, there's a disturbing lack of batman!whump that centers around Bruce >:( 
> 
> And I just like the idea of Bruce being so vulnerable and hurt. (i have no explanation why)
> 
> So when the questions started coming about the backstory of the other batboys and how they came to be, I have no answer.....
> 
> FOR NOW
> 
> Cause the questions made me wonder. And it made me even wonder how it'll make the other villains whose origins are connected to Batman will come to be after removing the Big Bat in the timeline. 
> 
> So yeah, I'll start drafting those answers--after I exhausted my fluffy ideas first ^^
> 
> Thank you for those comments! It transformed this fic from a mere collection of fluff scenes to a possible suspense/mystery/crime story. :)  
> You guys are awesome! <3


	4. Who Is Your Favorite Son?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whereas Dick asked their father who his favorite Gotham Knight. Everyone struggled to defend themselves without exposing their real identities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this will be the last fluff for now. Lol  
> Just kidding!  
> Next chapter will be the start of a story arc :)  
> I watched a batman movie earlier and a quote really called into me. So NOW I'll be writing about it ^^
> 
> Can you guess what movie it was? ;)  
> Anyone who guessed correctly will get a dedication next chappie XD

It was a weekend. A Sunday to be exact. Bruce always make sure to clear up his board meeting and other business schedules for the Sunday.

And in turn, the Gotham Knights also took a strict policy to be _extra_ cruel every Sunday to give off the message to regular criminals not to conduct any heist in weekend. Being the stubborn mules that they are, it took a while—but eventually the underworld got the message and adjust their plans accordingly.

It was a lazy morning. Bruce was in the living room sporting a cup of coffee and a big platter of breakfast bread and bacon that he shares with his boys—who are scattered in the sofa. Damian was by the floor playing a tug with his dog, Titus. Tim was in the biggest sofa on the other side of Bruce, his laptop opened and various codes flying through the screen.

Bruce may know basic computer science, but even those programs were beyond him. He had stopped trying to decipher it and merely shrugged the activity. Tim was probably just doing a school project, he thought. (In reality, Tim was trying to hack the Black Gate prison remotely).

Jason was on the other single sofa, on the left side, munching over his breakfast, all the while pocking Damian with his toe. Of which Damian growled to like a dog (however, he was practicing _patience_ so he let his brother be—at least that's the lie he told himself, in reality he just hates getting scolded by their father. Their father seemed at peace this morning, so he doesn't want to disrupt it).

Dick, on the other side, was also munching over his breakfast and praying that he could swallow the glass of milk that looks threatening in the table in front of him. He originally planned on just skipping it, however, he could feel Alfred's hawk-like stare at the back of his head. Thus, he had swallowed down his disgust and accepted his fate. He'll be here for a while.

Suddenly, a news report flashed on the television. Bruce brought down the cup of coffee he had in his hands and grabbed the report to increase the volume.

It was a report of the last night's events. There was a C-lister heist done by Riddler in the local Gotham museum. It was an easy mission for the batboys. The reporter managed to get a footage of the fight that night.

The boys saw their alter persona fighting the Riddler.

Bruce eyes were focus on the television. There was a suffocating silence that surrounded the room. The news reporter's voice was the only sound that could be heard.

After the report on the Gotham Knights, the news ended and it flashed back to a commercial. Bruce immediately lowered back the volume. He leaned back on the sofa and rested his head over it. "Those boys are really like the heroes of Gotham, huh?" he spoke over. He knew how much his boys appreciate the vigilantes.

Tim has to hold his laptop to stop his hands from shaking. "Uhm—yeah." He couldn't meet his father's eyes.

Jason and Damian remained quiet. The older even stopped pestering the younger.

However, Dick's eyes shone with mischief. This is the perfect opportunity to settle things once and for all. "Hey dad," he said, gathering the attention of the room.

Damian glared preemptively at his oldest brother. He doesn't know what Dick was planning but he somewhat _knew_ that it's something shitty, sappy and embarrassing.

Dick wasn't fazed though, in fact his grin even got bigger. "Since you've personally met the Gotham Knights—"

Jason cracked the bread he had in his hands, littering breadcrumbs over his shirt. He paid no mind in the mess however, eyes busy glaring at his stupid brother.

Tim were also typing in his keyboard a little harder than usual. _Gods, what can't Dick just shut up for once? Is he trying to expose our identities?!_ he wondered.

Bruce, who was oblivious to everything surrounding the boys' nightly activities, nodded his head. "Yes?" he was curious what Dick was trying to point out.

Dick gave a Chesire cat like smile, "So whose your favorite Gotham Knight?"

Damian didn't even notice that Titus had already bitten him. He couldn't feel his entire body.

Jason wanted to throw another piece of bread at Dick's stupid smile.

Tim saved his work and excited his program. He was ready to throw his laptop at Dick's smug face, damn the consequences.

Dick shrugged, ignoring his brothers. "I mean—for me, I think Nightwing is the coolest, you know."

Damian made a gagging noise. Jason almost gag himself. And Tim had to lean over the sofa to stop the nauseous that overcame him.

_Seriously?! How proud of him!!_

Dick merely laughed at his brothers' misery. "I mean, he could somersault mid-air, plus he's fit and acrobatic. He easily bested Riddler, didn't he?"

Jason couldn't handle this anymore. "Yeah, but as far as I've seen, Nightwing only won because he has Red Hood with him."

Bruce looked over at Jason.

"Red Hood is definitely—much, _much,_ cooler than Nightwing. He battled Deadshot once and won—plus, he has sniper abilities. He could—probably—snipe at least a hundred yards."

Tim coughed. He shut his laptop down. "That hundred-yard shot is only possible if Red Hood had Red Robin's help though. I mean, what is he— _and_ the Gotham Knights without Red Robin's technology?"

"Tt." Damian's not going to let these fools get the better of him. "All of them are cowards. Robin is the true hero among those pretenders."

"Ah—excuse me," Dick said, over-enunciating his pronunciation of words, "As the leader of the group, I think Nightwing gets to keep the title of the Best Gotham Knight, yes?"

"Ah—ex—cu—zze—me—eh," Jason mocked, "Nightwing _is_ not the official leader of the G-Knights. Red Hood only works with Nightwing _because_ he begged him too."

"I mean, not that's Red Hood's any better," Tim said, over to where he sat in between the two, "the only reason they're the pseudo-leaders is because they're slightly older than Red Robin. But if we'll check the qualifications, Red Robin _should've_ been the leader." He crossed his arms and nodded. Case closed.

Damian turned around and actually growled at Tim. "As if Red Robin's better" he said, putting excessive quotation marks, "the only reason you all—I mean *the others—*stepped over Robin is cause of age! And height!"

Jason laughed. "Oh yeah, I almost forgot, Robin's the pipsqueak of the group!"

Damian glared at Jason. "Oh yeah? Well at least Robin knows his way around sharp objects _unlike some people,_ who whine just cause he lost his gun."

Jason growled back, "What? You want to try that huh? Mono-o-mono. No fancy swords too!"

"Ah—ever the hotheads. And they wonder why Nightwing is everyone's favorite," Dick shrugged, feeling as if he had already worn the crown.

"No one likes Nightwing!" "Nightwing is the least favorite hero!" Jason and Damian said simultaneously.

"But we can't deny that Red Robin is like the only smart guy in the group. Brainy is the new sexy, yeah?" Tim said, a smug look on his face.

Jason and Damian both made gagging noises. Dick also felt slightly disgusted.

Meanwhile, Bruce looked over at his sons, an amused smile on his lips. Aw, truly the compassion of the youth. His sons truly adore those vigilantes huh. Maybe he could order a miniature collectable toys-slash-figurines of the Gotham Knights and give it to his sons. They just seemed so passionate about those heroes. Even knowing their age and preferred mode of fighting!

Aw, his boys geeking out over the heroes were so cute.

However, looking at the passion in his boys, he feared that they'll start fighting each other soon. Tim has his hands around his laptop and he seemed intent on throwing it over at Dick. Jason and Damian were already eye to eye, growling at each other's faces, while Dick looked as if he's ready to pounce over at the two and drag Tim with him.

"Boys—" he said, catching up the attention of the four.

The boys immediately stopped fighting each other, their sole focus on their dad.

Bruce almost felt embarrassed with the attention. Maybe he should've just let them fight each other off. Isn't that what brothers do? Rough each other up. It seems like they're regular bonding, going by the times he caught them sporting some bruises and even broken hands before.

It's either training or going a bit tougher than intended while playing with each other. At least, that's what they kept telling him.

"So who was it?" Damian growled, eyes threatening.

"Yeah, dad, tell us," Tim asked, voice surprisingly low.

Dick and Jason were also glaring at Bruce.

Bruce raised his hands up in surrender, "I mean—the four each had their strengths and weaknesses, so I guess they're all equally admirable—"

However, that didn't seem to please his boys.

"Who! Is! It!" The four of them yelled.

Bruce panicked and told the only other hero that popped in his mind. "Uhm—superman?"

The Gotham Knights' mouth opened in shock.

_He's not even in Gotham!_

Alfred laughed from where he stood by the door.

The following night, Superman got a visit from four very pissed off vigilantes—each sporting a modified kryptonite-enhanced weapon.

And the Underworld succumbed to panic, because apparently, everyday is a no-go day now.

Why are the Knights so goddamn cruel?! Even Nightwing and Red Robin, the two who use the bluntest weapons, didn't hold back.

_You told us its only Sunday!! It's still Wednesday!?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like my work, kindly consider buying me a coffee! <3
> 
> https://ko-fi.com/naxxerie


	5. Death in the Family (Part I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce Wayne was reported missing in Eithiopia, where an annual business gala event turned into something deadly. Meanwhile there is chaos in Gotham as a new freak joined the bid for the Underworld. 
> 
> The Gotham Knights may have to choose soon—protect the city from chaos and destruction, or save the life of their father.
> 
> Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOOO Guess who watched Under the Red Hood and got inspired? 
> 
> This story was inspired by Jason's quote:
> 
> "If it had been you that he beat to a bloody pump, if he had taken you from this world, I would've done nothing but searched the planet for this pathetic pile of evil death worshiping garbage and send him to hell!"
> 
> The quote just screams BATDAD WHUMP. Ofc, I couldn't help but to write it. ^^
> 
> Thank you everyone for your support for this story! <3 I was hesitant at first to post it since it just some silly AU in my head. But I'm glad that people had found it interesting. ^^ Thank you for all your comments and kudos! It kept me going <3

It was dinner time. Alfred was busy serving the dishes on the table, while Dick and Tim helped arrange the plates. It was their turn to help in the kitchen (they had a schedule). 

Bruce, meanwhile, sat on the head seat, reading over the formal invitation that was sent to him earlier in the office. It was about the annual Business Gala, there will be lots of interesting and prospective business partner attending the event. 

"Where will that be, Father?" Damian said, from where he sat. 

Bruce hummed and flipped the invitation, reading the location. "Ethiopia." 

Damian's eyes widened. "That's too far!" 

Bruce nodded. "It'll take probably the whole day if I left early morning." As any business billionaire of his caliber, he owned a private jet for specific international transportation. 

Damian's eyes suddenly hardened. "I want to come." He said, leaving no room for argumentation. 

Of course, the father in Bruce perked up once hearing the tone. As any adoring father, he protested, putting the concern for his son's well-being in front of him, "But what about school?" 

As much as he would love taking his youngest with him, the Gala isn't something that a boy of his age would enjoy. 

"I can do online," Damian shrugged, as if it wasn't a big deal. 

Tim, who was also listening, was ready to inject how he can do online too. Upon hearing about his father's travel towards the far country, he wanted to come with him too. But is merely too afraid to voice out.

Unlike Tim though, Damian has no reservations. "My teacher wouldn't mind."

Jason, who is in his second year in college majoring in Literature, also wanted to assert his place by his father's side. Whenever Bruce has to travel somewhere across the globe, there is always one to two of his brothers coming with him. Sometimes, if their schedule would allow it (also based on how troublesome the Gotham criminals are), they will all come. 

Somehow, there's a pull inside of him—as if Bruce leaving Gotham would be the last day he'll see his father. Of course it sounded ridiculous, and he couldn't actually explain the gut feeling (that he's pretty sure others have felt too, since his two youngest were so intent on coming with Bruce), but he knew that it was something that he should listen to. 

On the other hand, Dick was torn. Just as his brothers, he also wanted to come with Bruce and accompany him. Having already graduated from school, he knew that Bruce will have nothing to hold over him. He has no obligation tying him in Gotham—unless, of course you'll count the talks of an incoming Gang War. 

It was merely a whispered gossip in the streets. But Tim's surveillance was able to grab hold of the information. Someone is going to make a move soon—and he'll be grabbing for the title of Underworld's Kingpin.

Bruce was flattered of course. It felt nice to know that his sons worried about him just as he does to them. However, their worry literally has no basis. "It's just one night, boys," he gave Damian an assuring smile. "Plus, it'll be a boring party anyway. Everyone will be talking about business and forming connections."

Damian frowned, he looked like he wanted to protest more but couldn't put the right words. 

Bruce smiled, "I promise I'll be back as soon as possible. Won't even stay for a little sight seeing." Maybe that'll help ease Damian's worries—honestly, his sons are truly ridiculous sometimes. Maybe that's brought by always watching those news about Gotham's Knights fighting different criminals. It might have made them paranoid. 

"How about we watch a movie? Your choice." 

Damian gave a tight smile. He nodded but remained quiet. 

Unable to swallow the gripping and awkward silence, Dick made a joke—and Jason teased him about it. Thus, starting a parade of insults. 

Bruce gave a short thankful look to the eldest when Damian became animatic again, joining his brothers' challenge of creating the best insult. 

Dick smiled in return. 

* * *

After the movie—Damian chose a 'boring' horror movie, Dick was the only who got scared—Bruce went back to his room to sleep, preparing for his early departure tomorrow.

Meanwhile, his boys went to their Cave and prepared for the night's patrol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like my work, kindly consider buying me a coffee! <3
> 
> https://ko-fi.com/naxxerie


	6. Death in the Family (Part II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce Wayne was reported missing in Eithiopia, where an annual business gala event turned into something deadly. Meanwhile there is chaos in Gotham as a new freak joined the bid for the Underworld.
> 
> The Gotham Knights may have to choose soon—protect the city from chaos and destruction, or save the life of their father.
> 
> Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like my work, kindly consider buying me a coffee! <3
> 
> https://ko-fi.com/naxxerie

Tim was already by the Cave's Main computer, putting up the various hacked CCTV footage and the ones they installed, on the huge monitor screen.

Dick and Jason, both already in costume, were discussing the latest intel about the incoming threat on the table not few feet away from Tim.

Meanwhile, Damian sat beside Tim. He had his arms crossed in front of him, his eyes trailed in the screen, but Tim doubts that he's helping with the surveillance.

Usually, he'll be at the 'planning table', discussing strategies with Dick and Jason. He wasn't as good as the olders, having little experience, but he has good input. And he also wants to prove himself, in a typical youngest brother manner.

Tim paused in his work and sighed. Of course he perfectly understood why his rowdy brother is silently brooding beside him.

"I worry too, you know."

Damian remained quiet, acting as if he hadn't heard what his brother had said.

Tim tutted. He contemplated for a while before pulling out his personal laptop (he had many, each having a specific purpose and network connected to) from the drawer by his feet. He booted the computer and logged in his password.

He then handed the laptop to Damian, "Here."

Damian's eyes widened when he saw the applications running in the laptop. "You—"

Tim nodded. He gave a small smile, "I kinda put a tracker on Dad's wristwatch, you know, the one that Alfred gave him. I knew it's the only one he wears." He said, as if putting a miniscule tracker on someone's watch is something that you can do accidentally.

Damian's eyes remained glued on the monitor.

Tim grimaced, he was embarrassed to say the next few things but he figured it'll be the best way to ease his little brother's mind. "I also—did a background check on the Gala's guests, as well as the sociopolitical climate of the country, crime rates, security, and other factors that might affect Dad's visit." He scratched the back of his head, his favorite tick whenever he's embarrassed about something.

Damian nodded. He looked over at Tim's flushed face. "Thank you," he whispered. Then to lighten up the mood, he grinned, "nerd."

Tim snorted. "Yeah, I guess that's a given." He looked back at the monitor. "And it's not just us you know," he shrugged. "Jason's worried too. And Dick too"

"Dick worries by default."

Tim laughed, "that too."

He gasped when he saw the shift in the room he was monitoring through a CCTV feed he hacked. Penguin and his goons were down on the ground. There was a new batch of goons with AK guns surrounding them. "Guys! You need to see this!"

Dick and Jason immediately went to their brothers' side.

Tim adjusted the volume on the feed.

_"You bastard!" Penguin groaned from where he was held at gunpoint in the ground. Tables, chairs, papers and even money were trashed around the room. "Don't you know who I am?!"_

_"Yeah, a soon dead bird," the goon replied. Around him the other goons laughed._

Damian and Jason snorted. Dick gave them a glare.

Jason shrugged, "What? It's a good comeback"

Damian nodded in agreement.

Tim rolled his eyes at the two. Leave it to the two to be entertained even at a threatening situation.

Who would dare challenge the kingpin during his reign?

_"Unless of course, if we had agreed to a deal," someone said from off the camera._

Tim opened up a small window and tried to hack for other CCTV angles. But there is none working within the building. "Damnit."

Fortunately, the mysterious figure stepped over from he was hiding. Though he was facing away from the camera.

He had broad shoulders, and tall body structure. He was wearing (no doubt) a tailored expensive white suit. He was adored in golden accessories, perhaps to flaunt his wealth. He looked like a typical mob boss.

But what sets him off was the black head he seemed to have.

"Great, another freak in Gotham." Jason groaned.

Tim couldn't help but agree on that one. Why was it that this city attracted the most freakish and dramatic of all the criminals there is in the world? Why couldn't they go to Metropolis or something.

_"Pleased to be your acquaintance , Penguin. Kindly refer to me as—The Black Mask."_

Silence filled the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still a bit undecided how much angst I'm going to put in here uwu


	7. Death in the Family (Part III)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce Wayne was reported missing in Eithiopia, where an annual business gala event turned into something deadly. Meanwhile there is chaos in Gotham as a new freak joined the bid for the Underworld.
> 
> The Gotham Knights may have to choose soon—protect the city from chaos and destruction, or save the life of their father.
> 
> Part III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like my work, kindly consider buying me a coffee! <3
> 
> https://ko-fi.com/naxxerie

Bruce woke up early the following morning. He woke up before the sun has even risen. He took a bathe and prepared his small travel pack. He went to the kitchen and was greeted with Alfred cooking.

"Good morning , Master Bruce,"

Bruce sighed. "Morning Alfred" he had been telling Alfred to refer to him as just Bruce ever since he could remember but it seems that Alfred could be just as stubborn as Damian when Bruce first refused to have him adopt that Black bear when he was six. (He did, though Bruce managed to convince young Damian that the bear is better off in a conservation facility that in the estate). \

Alfred though? Bruce was still defeated.

"The boys are asleep yet?" Bruce asked, looking around the hall.

Alfred remained quiet for a minute, "Yes sir, they had—a late game night after you went to bed."

What the truth was however, is that the Black Mask is a bigger threat than Penguin and they had to scout the city to prepare to take down the Black Mask before he could made a move. Penguin was a problem enough as the Kingpin, though at least he remained quiet and not as destructive as the others. Black Mask though, is a mystery and a bad premonition. A wild card.

The Gotham Knights had just came home half an hour ago. And Alfred immediately put them all to bed.

Bruce nodded. "That's understandable" They're growing boys anyway. He's just glad that they are getting along well. "Boys will be boys eh?"

Alfred and Bruce laughed at that.

"Well then, I guess I'll just have to enjoy your fantastic meal by myself." Bruce said, taking a seat.

Alfred nodded and served him the food.

"Don't forget to remind the boys about school though" Though none of his kids are having difficulty in school. They are all constantly over performing, in their various field. Jason with college, Tim with senior high school and Damian with middle school. Dick already graduated.

"Of course Master Bruce," Alfred said. He looked over at Bruce and hid a small smile when he noticed his ward (slash son) wearing the wristwatch. "Be careful on your trip, sir."

Bruce nodded. "Thank you." He began to enjoy the small feast in front of him. Even if it's just a short trip, almost half a week, he'll still miss Alfred's cooking. The Gala may have had the best chefs the country has to offer but nothing beats Alfred's cooking.

After finishing his breakfast, he went to each of his sons' room and kissed them a goodbye. "Take care," he whispered. " _I love you._ "

There was a pull in Bruce's gut, making him speak all the things left unsaid in him. As if this morning would be last time he'll ever see his sons.

He shook the thought from his head. Perhaps his sons' paranoia is getting to him.

After finishing, he took his small packed luggage. And wore his favorite watch—the golden one that Alfred gave to him as a gift.

Afterwards, he went to his car and drove himself to Gotham airport where his private jet is waiting.

 _It's literally just a three-day trip,_ Bruce though. What could possible go wrong in that short trip?

Apparently, a _lot._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found another batfam prompt in my laptop and it's sooooo tempting to write! XD i haven't even finished ONE of the two and I'm already planning to add another one T_T
> 
> BTW, your comments are so fun to read! HAHAHA keep on guessing ;)


	8. Death in the Family (Part IV)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce Wayne was reported missing in Eithiopia, where an annual business gala event turned into something deadly. Meanwhile there is chaos in Gotham as a new freak joined the bid for the Underworld.
> 
> The Gotham Knights may have to choose soon—protect the city from chaos and destruction, or save the life of their father.
> 
> Part IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like my work, kindly consider buying me a coffee! <3
> 
> https://ko-fi.com/naxxerie

The situation in Gotham has gotten worse. As predicted, Penguin backstabbed his new partner—The Black Mask—merely a day after their apparent partnering. However, the Black Mask had predicted the betrayal and prepared accordingly.

There is now an on-going gang war in the Gotham streets. Black Mask and Penguin were battling each other, sending their minions to kill the other group's people, invading their establishments, even in broad daylight. 

The GCPD couldn't do a thing to stop them, their short staff and underfunded police precinct couldn't handle the destruction that the gang war was producing. 

The Gotham Knights had their hands full in the war. Try as they might, they couldn't stop the magnitude of the war. They would beat up as much goons as they could—both from the either side of the war. 

But the numbers are surprisingly high. And they'll often found themselves at the middle, whereas the two side temporarily halt their feud to gang up on the boys. 

"We can't let this continue," Damian said. He and the others were in the Cave, the secret basement of the Manor (a floor deeper than the garage).

"But getting in the middle of them is like getting in the middle of a cat's fight." Tim said. " We'll end up scratched." Of course, that's putting it mildly. If they hadn't been working together, as Dick had advised them not to go solo for while, Tim feared that they'll end up with something more than mere bruises. 

Jason nodded. "I say we took one of them first, then the other. Penguin is the easier target, since we're familiar with his MO" 

"But the Black Mask is a wild card. We can't predict how he'll get once Penguin is out of the equation." Tim said.

Dick nodded, considering his brothers' options. 

"But waiting them out might do the city more damage," Damian said from where he's sat. 

Tim and Jason nodded at the assessment. That is their main problem. They had considered just letting the war die out and take out whoever was the victor of the two. However, if they let the destruction continue, they feared that the chaos will merely go larger. A lot of civilians, who was merely caught in the crossfire, would end up injured (or worse, die).

"Okay. We'll take out Penguin first." Dick decided. That seemed to be the best option. 

The other three were silent, letting the decision wash over their heads. 

"But we'll have to scout Black Mask first. We have to make sure we'll know what he'll do after Penguin's apprehended."

They all nodded. Tim pulled out his new batch of inventions. "Here are some of listening device we could use. They don't shine light, but still looks suspicious." He warned. He of course doesn't doubt his brothers' hiding skill, but merely compelled to give the short instruction.

The other boys nodded

"Jason and Tim will do the scouting on Black Mask. Don't engage, understood? We don't want to give them ideas," Dick said. 

Jason and Tim nodded, fully understanding the delicateness of the situation.

"Me and Damian will scout Penguin," Dick said, nodding over at his youngest brother. 

They took each of the devices and pulled out the Gotham map, helping each other locate the necessary places that need further surveillance. 

Then they departed. 

* * *

Meanwhile, at the Gala. 

The night was in full swing. Everyone was talking to each other, forming business connections and planning expansion of their own franchises. 

Exhausted, Bruce went out the balcony to try to get some air. His jaw somehow felt stretched from all the polite smiling he did. It was really tiresome to be social.

He placed down his glass and pulled out his phone, opening his wallpaper. In it he stared at the picture of him and his boys. Almost two days of being away and he missed them already.

He's such a sap father.

He was rattled out of his little bubble of serenity when a gunshot resounded inside the event. 

And then, a scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be amazing. hehehe


	9. Death in the Family (Part V)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce Wayne was reported missing in Eithiopia, where an annual business gala event turned into something deadly. Meanwhile there is chaos in Gotham as a new freak joined the bid for the Underworld.
> 
> The Gotham Knights may have to choose soon—protect the city from chaos and destruction, or save the life of their father.
> 
> Part V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Got to deal with a personal problem....aka my depressive hibernation. lol
> 
> Chapter inspired by the Dark Knight film. :)

Bruce turned back. He quickly ran inside. There was a commotion in the middle of the room. There was a crowd before him, but they are standing still, as if afraid that one wrong move would get them killed.

Despite his self preservation instinct screaming him to keep hidden, Bruce pushed himself forward. And there he saw—

At the middle of the crowd were numerous goons wearing clown masks, branding semi-automatic riffles in their hands. They're glaring at everyone and eyeing all the guests.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen," Bruce saw a man wearing—no, he painted his face pure white, with dark spots under his eyes, and a big red smile drawn from each of his cheeks. "We are tonight's entertainment!" He has green hair and dark purple vest.

_Like a clown._

He went to the nearest food table, casually picked up a finger dish and chewed on it. He gave a hummed of approval, "Tasty!" before drinking a glass of champagne—and throwing the glass carelessly. The woman nearest him has to jump back a little to avoid the shattered glass by her feet.

The clown leader looked around the room, walking casually in the mini circle, eyeing each guests faces. "I only have one question. Where is—" he paused, then as if forgetting the name, he pulled up a piece of paper from his breast pocket and read, "Bruce Wayne!" he screamed the name, as if he was calling off a lottery number.

Bruce flinched from where he stood at the back. His heart hammering rapidly on his chest. Why is this freak looking for him? Was it for money again?

The guests eyed each other—but otherwise remained silent.

Bruce didn't know if he should be thankful that none of the others rat him out or angry because _then_ he knows the freak would start hurting them for not answering.

The clown leader frowned and his goons eyed each other, as if fearing for a reaction.

Bruce feet remained rooted on the ground.

Joker suddenly walked towards another table and casually waved his shotgun on the people nearest him. "Do you know where he is?" He looked at a woman nearest to him—and smelled her perfume. He then gave a maniacal laugh. "Cause I _know_ he's here."

He then grabbed the woman's head. The woman stifled a cry. Clown leader wasn't fazed though. "We just need to talk—!" he then pushed the woman hard enough that she and the ones immediately behind her fell down.

Bruce was about to open his mouth to shout when an old man—he recognized was the Chief Executive Officer of the business who held the event spoke, "We're not intimidated by _thugs_ ," throwing the name like an insult.

The clown leader laughed. He walked towards the CEO and grabbed his chin, forcing the taller man to look down on him. "You remind me of my father."

The CEO was taken aback. "Wh—"

Then the clown leader grabbed the back of the man's head, pulled him towards, and slashed his face. "I hate my father!"

" **STOP**!"

Against better judgment, Bruce's mouth opened on its own. There was a collective gasped around the room. And he suddenly felt stupid. Of course the others are protecting him, yet here he was sacrificing himself as if he doesn't have a family to return to.

He flinched back as the clown walked towards him. The man brushed a bit of his hair and straightened his jacket. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Wayne." His smile was every bit malicious.

Bruce had to force his voice not to shake, "What do you want?"

"Just a chat," the man shrugged, as if he was merely asking the billionaire for a lunch meeting.

Bruce tried to strengthen his posture—to act as if he wasn't intimidated by the freak show in front of him. "I—We can talk. Here."

The man shook his head. "No can do, Mr. Wayne. I've prepared a candlelight dinner. Better than this!" He laughed maniacally and fired his shotgun on some random man's leg. The man screamed and fell down on the ground, his leg bleeding. "Unless of course, you'll rather stay here with a bunch of dead bodies?"

The clowned masked goons all reloaded their guns. The guests gasped in fear.

"Okay, I'll go." He gave a look of apology towards the man who got shot. But he was surprised to see the man's eyes burning with fear—not for the gunmen around him, but for _Bruce._ His eyes begged him not to go.

Maybe it was brought on by the Gotham Knights' heroism—the bravery they showcased, fighting for the worse of the worse, that ignited the fire within Bruce. Or maybe it was brought by his own foolish desire to be someone courageous enough that his sons could be proud of. Either way, he couldn't let these people die, not if he could do anything about it.

 _Maybe they'll merely ask about money. Like all criminal do,_ Bruce thought. He prayed that it was the only case.

The goon closest to him pulled at his arm and started dragging him away from the crowd and into the elevator shaft.

"And that's all for tonight's show!" The madman said, bowing in front of the terrified guests, as if he was performing at a night club. "Always remember—don't forget to smile!" His maniacal laugh echoing around the room.

 _At least,_ Bruce thought as the clown freak laughed at his face, _my sons aren't here with me._

He couldn't even imagine what he'll do if his sons—Dick, Jason, Tim, or Damian—were here with him. He wouldn't able to protect them. He wouldn't be able to part with them. At least, they're a thousand miles away. At least they're safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like my work, kindly consider buying me a coffee! <3
> 
> https://ko-fi.com/naxxerie


	10. Death in the Family (Part VI)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce Wayne was reported missing in Eithiopia, where an annual business gala event turned into something deadly. Meanwhile there is chaos in Gotham as a new freak joined the bid for the Underworld.
> 
> The Gotham Knights may have to choose soon—protect the city from chaos and destruction, or save the life of their father.
> 
> Part VI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your support! <3 without further ado, here's part VI.

The night was still young when Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian put on their uniform and went out in the city. After discussions, they've decided to strike one of their enemies down before chasing after the other. After all, it's better to fight an enemy full front than having two on either of your side.

Tim and Damian remained hidden a block away from Penguin's headquarters, providing vision and backup. While Dick and Jason broke in the middle of the room, expecting a fight.

All of them were surprised to see the Penguin mixing drinks in his own mini bar. The room was still filled with his bodyguards (they counted at least eight), but all didn't draw their weapons at the two intruder standing in the center of the room.

Penguin hummed before taking a sip of his drink. His back was still to the two, "You're here to take me out I suppose?" his voice was devoid of any fear.

He was expecting them.

Jason grunted but remain silent.

It was Dick who spoke for them, "No offense, Mr. Cobblepot, but you're a criminal."

Penguin laughed and brushed off the comment, as if Nightwing was an old-friend coming in for a visit. He walked over to his desk and sat, placing down his drink beside him. "Though, not as pesty as the others, aren't I?" his eyes hardened.

Jason's hand itches for the gun in his holster.

Penguin motioned for his guard, the man nearest at the bar took a tray with two glasses of alcohol and handed them over at the two.

Dick grimaced and shook his head. "I'd rather not."

Jason didn't move, though he glared over through his masks.

Penguin shrugged and the guard placed the tray back at the table. Then began walking towards his place. "Look, I know I'm not on your best lists of people," Penguin started, tone casual and almost friendly, "but we do have a common enemy don't we?"

Of course, all of them occupants knew who the current kingpin was talking to. The one who was bidding to cut for his place. His only competition after many years of his reign.

The Black Mask.

Ruthless and efficient.

"I don't like where this is going," Tim murmured over their comms. He and Damian were still privy over the conversation in the room.

"No shit." Damian whispered back.

Dick had to actively suppress his Brother Instinct and not reprimand Damian over the comms.

Jason still remained quiet, immobile.

"So, why don't we strike a deal?" Penguin asked, voice laced with sweet promise.

Dick, ever the glorified First Knight, brushed the criminal's offer off like dust on his shoe. "We're not dealing with criminals—"

But Jason cut him off, "What are your terms?"

Dick have to suppress another Brother Instinct and not scold Jason over his morally grey stand. He remained quiet as Penguin spoke.

"I'd help you bring down the Black Mask. Use me as you see fit, a distraction, a front, what your knight's heart wants," Penguin raised his glass, and gave a satisfying smirk.

"And in return?" Jason asked.

Penguin took a sip of his drink. His eyes hardened, the smile turn sinister. "You send me to Arkham instead of Blackgate."

It seems the Penguin has already predicted that he was no match for the Gotham Knights, not even if there's only the two of them against him and his eight guards. He knew that it'll be much favorable of him to be in the Asylum instead of the maximum security that Blackgate has. It'll be easier to escape a hospital than prison, after all.

Nightwing looked over at Red Hood.

Even with the mask, Penguin could feel Red Hood grin. The man opened his arms, and cocked his head, "you gotta give more than that, Mr. Cobblepot. Seems to me that you'll be the one using _us_ to get rid of a little competition."

Penguin gritted his teeth. He thought the offer would've stand on its own. Apparently, that wasn't the case. He has to bring his other card down, his only ace. "Fine. There'll be a shipment. By the Black Mask. Said it'll be containing his 'greatest weapon' so far. Shipped off from some mad scientist he used to work with," the Intel had cost him a fortune and some good men, but it was something worth more than a few million and blood.

The so-called shipment was the one that pushed him to have a chat with the Knights. He had thought of taking and ambushing the shipment on his own, but knew that there's a lot that could go wrong over it and he doubted that he'll have enough competent men to bring down the enemy. Though, with the Knights? He knew that they'll be more than enough to prevent the man and ensure that the shipment is destroyed.

Penguin may keep his little crown longer.

Tim spoke from their comms, "Intel confirmed. Shipment will be arriving tonight."

Penguin, oblivious to the private exchange, swirled the remaining wine on his glass. He finished it off and asked, "So do we have a deal?"

Nightwing grunted and raised his weapon.

Meanwhile, to his surprise, Red Hood gently put his brother's hands down. "Okay, Mr. Cobblepot."

The victory was sweeter than his wine. Penguin hid his victorious smirk. His face remained impassive.

Dick grunted, scandalized with what his brother had implied. There's no way they should deal with Penguin! It'll complicate things more! "Red Hood!" his Brother Instinct going off the rockers.

Penguin's eyes sparkled. Finally.

But then, with his flare from dramatics, Jason yelled, "No deal!" then proceeds to throw a smoke bomb on the floor.

Everything happened so fast.

Damian came down from the air vent while Tim broken down the window behind Penguin.

Dick and Jason immediately battled over the other goons who began to offer fire as soon as the smoke filled the room. Dick knocked off two of the men, while Jason broke one of the man's shoulders before proceeding to bend the other man's knees out of shape.

Damian, in his own, fractured another goon's legs before taking on the other.

Dick looked at both of his brothers disapprovingly.

Jason shrugged and pointed at his gun, who remained peaceful on his holster. While Damian presented his katana, who also remained peacefully contained in its sheath.

Dick rolled his eyes.

Meanwhile, Tim swinged his bo against the Penguin's back and pushed the handgun that Penguin pulled in his arm.

Penguin remained hopeless, arms tied behind his back, face pressed against his carpet. He glared at the heroes in front of him, "You'll regret this," a promise he would keep.

Jason pulled his gun out from his holster and pointed it at the Penguin's face. Penguin flinched.

"Just be glad that this still has bullets in it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like my work, kindly consider buying me a coffee! <3
> 
> https://ko-fi.com/naxxerie


	11. Death in the Family (Part VII)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce Wayne was reported missing in Eithiopia, where an annual business gala event turned into something deadly. Meanwhile there is chaos in Gotham as a new freak joined the bid for the Underworld.
> 
> The Gotham Knights may have to choose soon—protect the city from chaos and destruction, or save the life of their father.
> 
> Part VII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thank you at Emsm for betaing this fic!! Finally!! After years in ao3 I finally have a beta-reader XD From here forth, expect a better narration hahaha
> 
> Also, huge thank you for all the kind comments! <3 its what pushes me to continue this work. :) I'm glad you like this story so far!

**Gotham Ports. Evening.**

  
  


The Port was eerily silent despite the numerous men flocking all around it. Men armed with semi-automatic and fully automatic rifles, as if they’re prepared to go into war. In the front of them, welcoming the arriving shipment, stood their leader--the Black Mask. 

“Steady,” his assistant called over, hands stretched up as he helped with the delivering of a huge metal box. 

The box rattled the ground as it landed heavily a few feet away from Black Mask. 

Black Mask smiled, victory flashed on his eyes, “By tomorrow, I will be Gotham’s new Kingpin.” He could already envision the throne he’ll be sitting in, the cowards that will flock on his feet, and of course, Penguin’s defeated face. He will show his enemies no mercy. Only the raw power of the weapon in front of him.

A flash of red in the corner of his eyes caught his attention. The dot crawled from his chest up to his face. The Black Mask stood frozen, “What--” 

He looked up, a bit frightened, and saw one of the Gotham Knights--the Red Hood--by the tow tower, giving him a friendly wave, as if they were good pals who bypassed each other in the park.

Black Mask couldn’t deny the terror that rattled him. No! He can’t die right now! Not when he had victory right by his hands. He screamed and ran for cover, pushing past his baffled assistant. 

Meanwhile, Jason who was standing by the tow tower, carrying the bazooka on his arms, actually laughed at the scene of the  _ New Kingpin  _ Black Mask running away like a twelve-year-old middle schooler afraid of getting the cooties. “Coward.”

Then he fired. 

The blast took almost half of the Black Mask army. Some who were smart enough managed to run and took cover, unfortunately for them all, Black Mask was within those people who survived. 

Also bad news, was the fact that the blast opened the box in front of them.

Out came a humanoid with broad flesh shoulders and chest but metal arms and legs. 

“What the hell is that?!” Jason screamed, aiming his bazooka and firing at the metal human that looks like an overgrown club bouncer. The blast merely rattled the body of the enemy, but it didn’t manage to destroy it. 

“It’s called Amazo. A highly advanced, cybernetic android equipped with the ability to absorb the power of super humans,“ Tim rattled off in the comms, his holographic mini-computer flashing off the descriptions. 

Jason quickly reloaded the bazooka and fired again. It brought the robot on its knees, but quickly stood up again. 

Dick appeared behind Jason. “Robins! Prioritize the Black Mask,” he yelled over the comms as he came to defend Jason. They both escape their fatal position in the tower just as the robot punches the tower’s ground, breaking the metal foundation. The tower fell down like a sucker-punched human.

“On it!” Tim and Damian quickly ran towards the Black Mask, who was making its escape. 

As they moved to apprehend the escaping criminal, Jason and Dick moved to stall the giant ranging robot. 

Tim and Damian quickly ran towards Black Mask. Tim threw three little knives at the goons, taking down the three men closest to where they are. Damian used the falling body to propel himself up and jumped to slashed the other two, Tim then used the moment and hit the other one, his knife embedding in their shoulders. The men fell down before they could even reload their guns. 

“Pesty shits,” they heard Black Mask mutter before he pulled out his gun and fired. 

Tim acted on instinct and pushed Damian out of the way with his bo. Damian grunted as he rolled over the floor and jumped behind Black Mask. The criminal kept on firing, in hopes that a bullet would catch the Knight. 

But it didn’t. 

Damian swirled his Katana, wounding the Black Mask on his back. Tim used the moment Black Mask was shocked over the wound, to rush forward and break the criminal’s hand using his Bo, rendering him weaponless (a trick that Jason had taught him, where he pointed out the exact point and how much force was needed to hit the hand).

Meanwhile, Damian kicked the criminal’s knees. Black Mask was forced to kneel in front of the two. “Fucking kids,” he grunted, clunching his broken hand. 

“Yeah, you just got bested by one,” Tim swirled his staff and knocked the man unconscious. Damian moved behind the criminal, and tied his hands behind. 

In the distance, a loud explosion erupted. The two Knights looked up and saw Jason and Dick having a hard time dodging the robot. 

Jason attacked the robot head-on and stupidly engaged it with a fist fight. He was punched and his body flew back towards one of the metal shipments. Dick snickered, “Packs quite the punch for a toaster on steroids, huh?” but still he felt worried about the way that Jason fell. 

Jason coughed and out came blood on his hand. He felt his chest tighten upon the impact. He grunted but still forced himself to stand. Every inch of his body was hurting, but he didn’t let that deter him. He had to defeat the robot. Protect his brothers from getting hurt. 

Tim immediately went to his brother’s side and helped Jason up. He was worried over this older brother, but wisely shut his mouth. The suggestion for Jason to ease up and not engage further died on his lips. 

Damian meanwhile swung towards Dick and threw explosions at the robot. The robot staggered back but pushed forward again. It’s like throwing smoke bombs instead of destructive explosives. 

“Intel, Red Robin!” Dick said, jumping to a higher ground to dodge the huge robot. Damian rolled on the other side, hiding behind a shipment before jumping on a higher position. 

Tim used the scanner in his mask and scanned the robot. “It has the same weak points as any human being.”

Dick nodded. He swung towards the higher tower and used the moment to jump towards the robot. He landed on the bot’s shoulders, leaned down and stabbed two metal rod on each of its ear-like-structure metal parts. He activated the rod and electrocuted the robot.

The robot stopped for a second. But didn’t get defeated. 

Dick was about to jump away but the robot caught him by the leg. It mercilessly threw him a few feet away. Dick tried his best to lessen the fall, but it didn’t make the injury hurt any less. Unfortunately, the fall twisted his arm in a wrong angle, breaking it. He screamed and Tim immediately went to help him, Dick pushed him and pointed at the robot. “Later.”

Tim’s face grimed but didn’t object. 

Damian sprang into action. Jason ran towards his brother despite the fact that he could feel his own ribs stabbing him inside. 

The robot’s eyes suddenly shone and out came a laser just as destructive as that of Superman. Damian and Jason dodged. Tim and Dick quickly ran from behind. 

“Any suggestions?” Damian asked Tim. 

Tim paused for a second. “Just one,” he took circular plastics from his belt and gave two to Damian. “Stick this to his eyes.”

Damian nodded. 

Jason rushed past them and reloaded the semi-machine gun he picked up from one of Black Mask’s goons. “I’ll distract him.”

Tim and Damian nodded. They moved out of the way, circling the robot to create some distance and look for an opening. 

The robot was vigilant. He kept on raining down fists, crackling the pavement below them and rattling the ground, while also firing up his laser at the pestering Knights.

Dick launched himself at the chaos, even with one of his arms indisposed. He took his bombs and launched them at the distance, distracting the robot as well.

Then, when the robot was somewhat getting confused with the constant bombardment of bullets and pellet bombs, Damian sneaked at the back of the robot, just as Dick had done, and stuck two of the circular objects in its eyes. To prevent the robot from getting Damian, Tim and Jason launched themselves and kicked the robot back. The robot tried to get back at the heroes and fired his laser, however the circular object prevented the laser from passing and instead turned on itself, exploding the robot's head.

Damian landed beside his brothers. The Gotham Knights sighed as they won the hard battle. 

Tim immediately checked up Dick’s limped left arm and made a makeshift cast with the first aid he packed. 

Meanwhile, Jason had to lean towards the nearest wall, clutching his aching abdomen. It was getting a bit harder to breathe. However, this wasn’t his first injury so he was able to shoulder on. Damian went to him and pulled Jason’s arm around his shoulder, helping him up and walking towards their car. 

The sirens of GCPD were heard in the distance. The boys exchanged a glance and offered each a smile. Finally, the problem was resolved. Black Mask and Penguin, both apprehended by the police. 

“Come on, let’s get back home,” Dick said, motioning for his brothers to come. 

The GCPD filled the area. Dick gave a friendly wave to Commissioner Gordon who gave a salute with his hat. “Good job boys!” he said, tone hinted with pride as usual.

Dick gave one last farewell before he went with his brothers to their getaway car tucked a few feet away from the area, hidden in the shadows. Dick turned towards his brothers, and motioned for his injured arm since usually he’ll be the designated driver (it's his birthright as the eldest), “So, who wants to drive?” he asked, with a teasing smile.

Jason jumped on the opportunity faster than he was able to dodge the robot tonight, “I can--” 

But Tim, his treacherous brother, poked him in the stomach.

Jason immediately doubled over, he winched when his cracked ribs painfully reminded him of their existence. “Bastard.”

Tim grinned and pushed Damian out of the way to steal the driver’s seat. He massaged the wheel for a while and gave a victory smile over the rearview mirror, gleeful eyes contradicting Damian’s murderous ones. He started the engine.

Meanwhile, Damian instead helped their eldest. He opened the passenger door for Dick. Dick thanked him and went inside. 

Jason grumbled as he sat in the backseat. He was never in the backseat. “Urgh, I hate this.”

Beside him, Damian groaned and crossed his arms. “Welcome to my life,” contrary to Jason, Damian is  _ always _ in the backseat (perks of being the youngest).

Dick laughed at his brothers’ antics. Tim then maneuvered the car towards the road. 

It was a peaceful silence for a while, before Dick remembered the itch in his bandaged arm. He groaned, “I forgot. I have to hide this to Dad.”

Jason shrugged, “You could just tell you fell off the stairs or something,” he’ll admit though that out of them, he’s the one who always had the lamest excuse. 

“That’s a lame excuse,” Damian offered. 

“Or I could make it as if you’re doing acrobatic lessons  _ and _ fell off,” Tim offered by his side. 

Dick rolled his eyes, “ _ Then,  _ Dad’s gonna scold me for being clumsy.”

“Well, you  _ are  _ one,” Damian mumbled. 

Dick rolled his eyes.

Jason grinned. “Well, anything’s better than explaining why you’re in Gotham Ports in the first place,” he giggled, though he coughed at the end after accidentally irritating his broken ribs. “Ah shit. No one cracks a joke later, okay?” he glared over at his brothers. 

Their youngest, Tim and Damian, merely laughed at his expense. 

Suddenly, the car’s communications beeped, signaling a message from the Manor. Tim clicked the answer button, “Evening Alfred.”

Dick grinned, “Maybe Dad called early.”

“Tt,” Damian crossed his arms and acted as if he couldn’t care less that their father would miss them well-enough to call earlier than the time they’ve agreed to, though frankly, he felt giddy inside and couldn’t wait to see (or hear) his father’s adoration. They have to be careful though, as much as Damian wants to see his eldest brother scolded, they can’t afford to worry their dad.

“It’s about Master Bruce,” Alfred said, an odd grim in his tone. 

Dick failed to notice it, however, “See? Dad called early, didn’t he?” He didn’t even bother hiding the excitement in his tone. 

Alfred was silent for a second. Then, he shook his head. “No. Master Dick, he’s--” there was a crack in his voice, as if he could barely speak. 

The four Knights immediately felt dread. “Alfred?” Dick asked, worry itching in his voice.

Jason and Damian leaned closer to the front seat. “What is it?”

Even through the small monitor, they could easily see how Alfred was close to falling apart. 

“Master Bruce is missing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This arc will overlap another batfam arc. ^^ I'll leave it to you to guess which one it'll be. HAHAHA
> 
> If you like my work, kindly consider buying me a coffee! <3
> 
> https://ko-fi.com/naxxerie


	12. Death in the Family (Part VIII)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce Wayne was reported missing in Eithiopia, where an annual business gala event turned into something deadly. Meanwhile there is chaos in Gotham as a new freak joined the bid for the Underworld.
> 
> The Gotham Knights may have to choose soon—protect the city from chaos and destruction, or save the life of their father.
> 
> Part VIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot I haven't posted this lol.

Manor Cave. Past midnight. 

The car had barely properly stopped when his brothers all jumped from their seats. Jason and Damian were the firsts to resupply. Jason opened the controller and pulled over their advanced private jet. 

Dick immediately rushed over to Jason and stopped him. “Let’s be sensible guys--we can’t just--”

But Damian stood firm in front of the eldest, glaring up at him, "But this is father Richard! We must go there. He's in danger—”

Dick sighed. "I know,” he perfectly understood his brothers’ rush, but they also have to be sensible. “And we'll be entering what possibly a hostile situation. We need to recon. I'm not saying that we shouldn't go there immediately, but we need to prepare ourselves."

Damian paused, he looked towards Jason, wanting to know what his older brother would do. 

Jason sighed and nodded. It was then that Damian calmed, well partially, but still better than the ranging emotion he was sporting earlier. 

Tim went down from the vehicle, still dazed a bit, the realization not fully sinking in. 

Alfred entered the Cave, in his hands was a tray filled with medical supply. He wordlessly started treating Dick and Jason. 

“Were there any ransom asked?” Dick said. It was cruel to hope that there was, but if the criminals asked for a ransom, that means they’ll be easier to track. 

Grimly, Alfred shook his head. “Nothing, Master Dick. Nothing at all. I wished there was, it would’ve been easier,” he said, finishing up the bandage on Jason. 

Meanwhile, Tim was stationed on his usual seat in front of the huge and powerful computer they had installed in the Cave. He was busy figuring out and researching over what threat he had  _ missed.  _ He hadn’t been casual when he was researching that country. Yet nothing significant had searched up from his research. 

So what was this? Who could’ve done this?

He hacked the database of the local police in the country and pulled up a video footage of the Gala. “Guys!” 

Dick and Jason immediately rushed by his side. Tim hasn’t even noticed that Damian was already beside him, pulling up his own research. Alfred stood behind. 

They all saw home many criminals carrying weapons and wearing clown masks entered the Gala event. It was painful to witness how these criminals cornered and pulled their father, and they’re unable to do anything but  _ look. _ In the last footage, one of the last clowns, who has his face painted instead of wearing the usual clown mask, gave a friendly wave to the camera and smiled. 

Jason’s blood boiled. “Who is this guy?!”

Tim immediately pulled up a detailed information--well, what they had so far. “He called himself The Joker. A mercenary--well--something akin to that. Gun for hire, drug trade, human trafficking, he has his hands everywhere.” 

“And now he’s a kidnapper too,” Dick said, eyes grimed. The way that the criminal smiled in the footage was eerie, it made him shiver involuntarily. “But why only Dad? The Gala was filled with billionaires from around the world,” it was the first question that popped in his head. 

Jason nodded. “So this is personal.”

That’s actually way worse. 

Damian paled, “Does he--does he know us?” Has their father been in danger because of them? Had the Joker figured out their identities and used their only weakness against them?

Tim shook his head. “I don’t think so. If he did, he should’ve sent a message here in the Manor. Waynes aren’t really that hard to find.” 

Alfred nodded. 

Jason grunted, his worry morphing into anger, “So what was it?!” 

As if the question cleared his mind, Tim immediately popped codes in the computer. Suddenly, there’s a map of Ethiopia with a red dot flashing in it. 

Damian grinned, already catching up with what Tim was showing them. “Is that--”

Dick and Jason both looked confused.

Tim breathed a sigh of relief. “I put a tracker in father’s watch,” he confessed. “I knew that he'd wear the one Alfred gave him.”

Dick sighed, but he also looked better, as if a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “I couldn’t care less about the ethics in this right now.”

Tim blushed. “I mean, it worked right? See? The location isn’t in the hotel near the Gala nor was it in the building where it happened. Meaning, the kidnappers haven’t taken it off father, or if they did, we could still pinpoint their location and interrogate them.”

The others nodded. They proceeded to restock their weaponry and ready the jet they’ll be boarding. 

Alfred didn’t even waste his breath warning his children of the danger they’ll be facing as they prepare for a battle with injuries. Dick still has his broken arm, Jason was suffering cracked ribs, and Tim and Damian also had their fair share of bruises and scrapes. 

Nothing could stop the Knights from saving their father. Not personal injury. Not the cowards wearing clown masks. 

And though he wouldn’t admit it, there was a selfish part of Alfred that was thankful that the Knights will be going to rescue Master Bruce. He knew that only the four boys could ensure the safety of his ward. 

The four Knights gave one last farewell to Alfred before they took off. They didn’t waste any second. There was a blooming hope in their heart. 

_ We’re coming, father.  _


	13. Death in the Family (Finale)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final showdown between The Gotham Knights and The Joker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please ready some tissues. :')

**Somewhere in Ethiopia. Night**

Bruce Wayne, philanthropist billionaire and current CEO of Wayne Corporations, a father to four teenagers, woke up with an aching head and a body that feels as if it has been dragged through dirt.

His vision swarmed as soon as he opened his eyes. He closed them again and tried to focus on the vision in front of him, but as soon as the images cleared, he began to lose focus again. His mind was beating on its own, wanting him to merely close his eyes and rest.

He heard a laughter. It sent chills down his bones.

"Should've lowered the dose, didn't think you could be this weak, Mr. Wayne," a man said.

Bruce took what little control he had of his immobile body and pushed him against the wall. The simple act almost drained the energy out of him. He had to pause to catch his breath.

He gasped when he felt a metal hit his shoulder. His body fell limp on the ground once more.

The maniac laughter continued. "That looks like it hurts!" the man said in glee.

Bruce opened his eyes—only to close it again when he felt the metal hit another part of his body. Again and again, the metal kept on battering against his fragile body.

"That looks like it hurts more!" the man yelled, laughing as he beat the billionaire into—

Into what?

What had Bruce done to deserve this madness?

"Stop!" Bruce yelled, arms going up in an attempt to shield himself from the onslaught.

But the man merely kicked his hands out of the way and attacked him in the face.

Bruce could feel his nose break.

The man wasn't satisfied though, he attacked again, battering Bruce's right eye in such a way that the billionaire could no longer open it.

Bruce was crying blood. "Stop—please," he begged, wanting the pain to just stop.

But the man was either deaf or didn't really care. He continued on his beating, laughing as he broke every bone in Bruce's body.

"What hurts more Mr. Wayne?" he asked in between. "This?" he asked when he broke Bruce's arm with the metal, "or this?" he asked when he broke Bruce's left leg.

Bruce coughed out blood. It was getting hard to breathe. "Sto.....plea..." he couldn't even form proper words, his body was fighting to merely stay awake. The pain was unbearable. Everything hurts.

What does the man want? Money? It seems like every unfortunate event in Bruce's life was brought by the wealth he was born into. The only thing that had defined him.

Who was Bruce Wayne without his wealth? Without his title?

Nothing but a vulnerable man.

* * *

Meanwhile, the Gotham Knights have landed in the city. Due to Tim's talent, they have already procured a rented car in the middle of the night, when no shops were even opened still.

There was snow flowing from the sky engulfing the dark expanse in a white flurry, littering the road relentlessly with a blanket of slick slush. Yet, Jason, despite the cracked ribs, paid little mind and didn't slow down the car. They were speeding through the city, with Tim's laptop coordinating where they are heading.

"It's near," Tim said over, who was seated on the passenger seat to quickly guide the driver. "We're near," he reassured the other occupants.

There was only grim silence that answered him.

The car speeds through, disregarding all known road protocols. There was no time to waste. Who knows what that mad criminal was doing to their father?

* * *

Bruce Wayne considered himself a simple man. Yes, he had all this wealth surrounding him, he had a seat atop of the tallest building in the City, yet that is not what he prided himself most.

No, what he treasured more than his company, his bank accounts, his Manor, more so than all of his wealth put together, were his precious children.

Dick, Jason, Tim, and his little Damian.

He would willingly trade everything he owned, lived uncomfortably in poverty, if it meant that he could embrace his kids again.

Their image flashed in his mind every time he felt the ache of metal attacking his flesh. He would picture his children's smile, hear the faint whisper of their voices, and feel the ghosts of their touch.

Bruce wanted nothing more than to be with his children again.

It was the only thing that has made him hold on, despite his mind begging him to let go, to embrace the darkness, and let his mortality be exchanged for the bliss of silence and peace. In death he would be free from pain.

Yet in death, he would be separated from his children.

And that is something that he couldn't...not while Damian is still so young, not when Tim has yet to finish school, not when Jason has yet to fully mature, not when Dick has yet to embrace his responsibilities.

His children still needed him.

His blood painted the floor beneath him. He laid on the ground, his broken arm limped in front of him. His voice rasped. Yet, he continues to beg, to be given a chance to see his family again, "Please...stop..."

But the man didn't stop. He attacked Bruce, again and again, as if making sure that the metal had connected with his victim's every inch of the body.

Bruce thought that it'll be the end of him. That he would fail his children and be forcefully parted from them—when he heard the rattling of the metal hitting a few feet away from him.

He tried to open his left eye, bruised yet thankfully still functional. He saw how the criminal pulled up a white handkerchief and gently wiped away Bruce's blood on his skin, as if they were mere dirt.

Bruce coughed more blood. Here he was, battered close to death yet he had no idea why. He was beaten but for what reason? He was never asked for any amount of money, because wasn't that what everyone wanted from him?

So why? Why was he left in this place, bleeding, and hurting? What was the point of it all?

"W—" he coughed, it was getting increasingly harder to breathe, more so to speak. Yet he wanted to know. He needed to know. "Why?"

The Joker smiled.

"Because you're the invitation, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce Wayne closed his eyes. There was ringing in his ears. When he opened them again, he saw that the place had been abandoned. Only silence answered him. He could hear his labored breathing echoing through the place.

It was cold, he recognized the freezing temperature, yet all he could think of was the numbness. He could barely feel his arms, nor his legs.

He stared at his empty wrists, bound by simple cufflinks. He tried and failed to be freed from it.

He gave a bitter laugh. He wished the man would have just asked him for his money. He would've handed the man a blank check if it meets he could be reunited with his sons again.

At the memory of his sons, his heart ached.

_ Dick, Jason, Tim, and my little boy Damian. _

It looks like your father won't be coming home tonight.

* * *

They were close. So very, so painfully close.

The boys could see the outline of the abandoned warehouse where they knew that their father was being held. The red light on Tim's monitor flashed, a blaring hope.

Jason swallowed down the pain in his chest. His broken ribs seemed to want to remind him of their existence. Yet he pointedly ignored it. He gritted his teeth and sped up.

They're close.

_ We're coming. _

"Faster!" Damian yelled from the backseat. He was ready to leap from their car and beat the people responsible from taking their father away from them. He would show them no mercy. He would bathe in their blood. Not even his oldest brother could stop him.

The warehouse was coming to a close. The boys readied their weapons.

When all of a sudden—

**BOOM!**

The warehouse exploded right in front of their eyes. Jason had to stop the car. They immediately jumped out of the vehicle as if believing that what they initially saw was nothing but a figment of their paranoia.

But when they stepped out of the car, they were greeted with the sight of the blazing fire and heat in their cheeks.

_ "Father!" "Dad!" _

Jason collapsed on his knees. "No—No!"

Tim remained rooted where he stood, eyes wide as his mind tries very hard to grasp the notion that his father was— "This can't be..."

Dick could barely stand on his own, he stared wide eyed as the fire engulfed his father. "Not like this.....not....no—"

Damian cried. He didn't even know when it started, but suddenly there was wetness on his cheeks, and there was screaming in his ears. He hadn't realized that the voice was his own.

It was a winter night, in front of a burning warehouse, where the Gotham Knights mourned the death of Bruce Wayne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How'd it go? 
> 
> :)


	14. Unforseen Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The family tries (and fails) to deal with the death of Bruce Wayne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more feels. :)

_ There was no body to bury. _ They found nothing in the wreckage of the burnt building. There was only ruined random equipment, ashes and snow....and their father's priced golden watch.

Tim couldn't even bear to look at it without breaking down. It was a reminder of how much he had failed.

Dick had decided to take care of it. He personally cleaned the watch and stored it where even Alfred will not have to bear to look at it.

He had taken on his big brother role and arranged all the necessities with Alfred. He was also the one who volunteered to break the news to the man they've taken as their grandfather.

Alfred had closed himself off pretty much after that. The same way that Damian had closed himself.

There was much to finalize after their father's death. So many people to formally inform. Because of Bruce's name and popularity among both the Gotham Elites and the public, they have to face the onslaught of the media. The news broke out of the city, printed in the headlines of every media outlet in existence. Bruce's death and memorial became the topic of the city.

They were forced to go through an interview one, the very first and the last that they had appeared in public. It was to officially confirm the death of their father. His brothers didn't even have to pretend to be distraught. It was evident in their body, in their silence. 

They were defeated. And utterly alone.

They wanted to have a private burial, a closed casket ceremony since they had even failed to save their father's body. Yet with the media outrage, the boys had feared that they would be subjected to facing the media vultures every second and not even be allowed to mourn in silence.

Yet they were pleasantly surprised when the public was the one who shielded them. Because Bruce Wayne was a good man and a well-loved philanthropist who had never failed to give to the city, he was hailed as a hero. A hero. The citizens of Gotham had taken it upon themselves to protect Bruce's family, as a way of giving thanks to the man who had helped them. They pushed the media (and even threatened them) to give the boys privacy.

And the media couldn't do anything but to follow the public's demand.

Damian was awestruck by what had happened and idolized his father more. His biological grandfather had always insisted that they'll change the world, even through force, yet here was an ordinary man, his father, Bruce Wayne, changing people's lives and being treated as  _ a hero _ without shedding blood.

He had changed the world. Without resorting to violence.

Damian cried even more. He was in his room, still mourning the death of their father. Titus sat quietly by his side, offering his condolences.

Meanwhile, Dick tries very hard to stay strong for his brothers. He stepped in his role and doubled his efforts to prevent his family from collapsing upon the tragedy.

Damian had become unresponsive and often violent to the criminals. It had been an issue before, Dick knew how much he had reprimanded his youngest brother, yet it seemed like there was nothing stopping the younger from raging against Gotham's worse.

And whenever Dick tries to reprimand him again, Damian lashes out to Dick, turning his anger to his brother.

Dick has to privately tend over to the few cuts left on his body. He couldn't let Alfred see it, though it's not like Alfred seemed to care about them anymore.

Dick doesn't want to sound bitter, but it was getting harder and harder not to be when the one he was looking up to help him, was also secluding himself in his mourning. Though, Dick understood that it must have been very hard for Alfred, with another Wayne dying on his watch.

He sighed and went to the Cave where he saw Tim, again lacking sleeping.

Dick was supposed to take over Bruce's shares over the company and assume the man's position as head of the Board committee, yet he had regretfully neglected his business lessons (and it's not like his father had forced him to).

So, Tim had taken over that role, hiding behind Dick's image and secretly reviewing the paperworks before telling which to sign for Dick, since he still wasn't within legal age to take over the company.

Jason could've helped their eldest, yet he was also being evasive. He wasn't even tagging along during their patrol, instead giving off some lousy excuse as to why he couldn't go out on patrol.

_ I'm doing some papers for college. _ Was his go-to excuse, yet Dick knew that it wasn't enough. There was a tug in his gut that screams that Jason was off doing something different than writing criticism of literature.

"Let him mourn on his own," Tim had rolled his eyes and brushed off Dick's inquiries when the older had asked the younger. Dick had thought that Jason would be the same as Damian, having been closer in personality, he thought that he had to watch Jason being roughed with the criminals along Damian.

Dick wanted to clarify himself to Tim but the younger merely brushed him off and ignored him for the rest of the night. He swallowed back his hurt.

There was a mild animosity surrounding him and his brothers ever since their father's death. Try as they might, they couldn't direct their blame and guilt to anyone but their own.

Instead of going to patrol, Dick had followed his younger brother, Jason to whatever it is that's occupying his nights.

He had failed to follow his gut instinct before, there was a calling in him to follow his father out of the country, yet he had ignored it.

He couldn't do that again. He couldn't afford to lose another one.

To his surprise, he saw Jason attacking and interrogating a petty criminal on the streets. They were in an abandoned alleyway, with almost no civilians around to hear the grunting of a man.

Dick was about to land in between his brother and the criminal when he saw it.

An abandoned clown mask on the ground. Blood decorating it.

"Where is he?" Jason growled. "Where is the Joker?!" he punched the criminal again, before kicking him the stomach.

The criminal doubled over and coughed, a frightened "I don't know! Please!" came out of his lips, begging his assailant.

Dick's eyes were transfixed on the mask. His body froze. It was as if his world halted and only he and the mask existed. Everything else became background noise.

"You're with them, you know him. Where is he?!" Jason continued, not even letting the man pause to take a breath. His attacks were getting even stronger, harsher.

The criminal continued begging, "Please! I can't! He'll kill me."

Jason pulled out his gun and pointed it at the man's face, "Well then,  _ choose your executioner _ ."

The criminal cried. He still had his lips tightly sealed.

But then Jason cocked his gun and fired—centimeters away from the man's face.

The bullet grazed the criminal's face, making him bleed. As the threat dawned on him, he confessed, "In the narrows! He's in the narrows. Please don't kill me  _ I have a daughte _ r—"

But Jason didn't let him finish. He fired his gun.

**Bang. Bang.** Two gunshot wounds on the criminal's head.

The criminal's body laid limp, his face contorted into an act of surprise.

Dick felt sick. He just saw his younger brother kill someone, without hesitation, without remorse. A cold-blooded murder. He closed in on his brother. "How could you?!" He cried. He pulled back his brother's arms, "We're not this, little wing We're not criminals." He was horrified. There were tears in his eyes, mourning over the shadow of what is left of his brother's innocence.

Jason's body began to shake. And then he cried, his sobs muffled by the helmet on his head. "They took him, brother. They killed him."

Dick hugged Jason and cried over his shoulder. "Please, don't be like them. We're not like them." He couldn't lose his brother to this, to the darkness, to a life of nothing but revenge.

They're supposed to be the heroes of the city. The ones who fought the crime, not committing it.

But Jason's mind was already made. He pushed his older brother back, "I don't care! They killed dad!" His voice rattled with lingering sadness and ranging anger.

"And this won't bring him back!"

"But it'll be worth it!"

Dick can't see his brother like this. He tried to lean closer again, but Jason took a step back. He swallowed back his fear, his worry and hurt flashing in his eyes, "Jay, I've been on this path before. You know this, you can't—I don't want to see you fall to this."

But Jason turned his back to him, to the brother who cared for him.

"Then close your eyes, brother. Cause I'm not going to stop until the clown is  _ dead _ ."

And just as that, he disappeared.

Dick punched the wall. He stared at the mask on the ground and was reminded of what they had taken away from him. His father. And now his brother.

He smashed his foot on the mask until it shattered.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my work, do consider buying me a coffee! <3
> 
> https://ko-fi.com/naxxerie


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